Hello everybody! Wow two chapters in one day! (Well aren't you all just soooooo lucky!)
Disclaimer: I got nothing!
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The ingenuous ballet girls knew the wrath of their instructor as Madam Giry strictly guided them though their afternoon rehearsal. It was typical that the older woman was more than sharp. But on this particular day, after having a frantic conversation with her daughter the ballet tutor seemed more wound up than usual, snapping at every mismatched move and every stance that boarded on incorrect posture. The girls looked at each other miserably, each envisioning what in the world had made their dance mistress so distressed and why the young Meg Giry herself was missing the rehearsal.
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Stillness once again layered the catacombs of the Opera House. However on this occasion the peculiarity of the silence revolved around Erik and the fact that he sat diligently at his organ and yet had no motivation to play.
Christine sat nearby, unsure of what to say herself. The confusion of their situation was a unique one. She should be furious with him, annoyed with the fact that he resorted to violence yet again…He had broken his promise to her…given her his word then took it back in an instant of anger and retribution.
"What would you have had me done?" He asked suddenly. Christine was amazed at his keen ability to read her mind: A capability that she found to be frightening and somewhat attractive at the same time.
She stood pulling her arms across her body, trying to ignore the cold that she felt in her blood. "Anything else Erik! Why must you always lose your temper and let your anger get the best of you?"
"Even if it is in self-defense?" He asked loudly rising to meet her gaze. Unsure of how to answer she simply sighed sadly and returned to her seat. Another moment of silence passed between until Erik ruffled a hand though his disheveled hair and knelt down close her.
"I would never wish to cause you pain Christine." He said softly.
"I know." She smiled forlornly and brushed the strand hair from his brow. Erik closed his eyes take pleasure in the simple feel of her touch. He only opened his eyes again when he felt her flinch away from him and outright gasp.
"Erik your arm!" She exclaimed. His temple wrinkled in confusion as he glanced down to the shoulder that Christine stared at so attentively now.
"Oh yes…I'm afraid the Viscount got the better of me for a moment." He admitted diffidently. He grinned slightly as he rose and headed back towards his organ attempted to stop the flow of blood. Christine joined him at his side where she grabbed him firmly by the hand and led him to take a seat once more.
He didn't try to hide the amusement in his face as he watched her force him to sit down and tended to his wound. She ripped away the torn piece of shirt, and cleaned the abrasion carefully, only stopping every so often when he flinched from the stinging.
"Sorry." She mumbled sympathetically.
"My dear, any contact with your flesh is worth a thousand times that little bit of pain." He said with a soft undertone into her ear.
Her smile grew as she gently cleaned the gash. Afterward as she had finished wrapping the injury with a clean cloth she looked up at him to find his eyes centered on her face once more.
"What?" She asked good-naturedly, with her hands on her hips.
"You…are just so picturesque."
The adoring comment made Christine redden significantly and she attempted to cover her face from the unflattering element.
"You charmer you." She replied as she poking him with a firm finger.
Moving across the room she paused briefly in front of a series of lit candles that threw off a brilliant light around the cavern.
"What are we to do now Erik?" She said with the soberness returning once more.
"Well…I do have an idea." She turned to his face quickly her eyes wide in potential delight.
"Yes?"
The hesitation was evident in his demeanor. He failed to continue and instead stood sharply and glided to Christine's side, the anxiety in his face unmistakable.
"Erik? What? What is it?"
"Run away with me Christine." He said abruptly.
"What?" Shocked by the statement she backed away and gripped onto a nearby table to hold her balance.
"Come away with me." He stated again. "Over the years I've collected enough money from the mangers to subside as a decent living for several years! You know just as well as I do that the police, the Viscount and the rest of the damned company will never leave us be unless I get rid of them-"
"Erik no you can't!"
"Then come away with me Christine!" He said excitedly. "We could leave this place, devote ourselves to music and each other for the rest of our lives! I have enough funds to take care of us both-"
"But this is my home Erik! This is our home-"
"My home is where you are." He whispered softly as he took her hand in his own and kissed it delicately.
"What of my friends? And singing? You know how much I love being on the stage …" She lowered her eyes and walked across the small room to the dinning hall table where she sat down…suddenly feeling very tired.
"Other than the house on the sea…this place is all I've ever known. It's not that I don't want to…I just can't picture my life as anything other than theater bound."
He rushed to her side once more, eager to win her over. "Don't answer now! Just…think on it for a while. We still have more than plenty of time…there is something that I still have to do."
"What's that?" She asked with sudden interest. He merely smiled at her and proceeded to the music room where he returned shortly with several sheets of note music firmly in his hand with a large smirk planted on his face.
Christine wouldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It was something she rarely saw in him, but when he handed her the stack of papers she soon discovered why. She smiled and shook her head playfully.
"Don Juan." She mumbled under her breath tracing several musical notes with her fingernail.
"Yes." He said excitedly. "There has to be a way to I get them to perform…" With that he turned swiftly and rubbed his chin with his fingertips, evidently in deep thought.
"Without violence of course." He said smiling at what he knew would be a nervous Christine.
"Of course." She said with slight skepticism in her voice as she continued to read out the script.
He paced around the room, hands clasped firmly behind his back, watching Christine from the corner of his eye.
"Christine?"
"Hmm…?" She asked, clearly enthralled with the libretto.
"Would you be my Aminta?" She looked up at him when she heard the request and could only smile fondly at the request.
"Really? You wish me to play the lead?" She said with slight surprise. "Won't that look suspicious?"
"It matters not." He replied. "I refuse to cast some ruffian in the role because of a few meager misunderstands…no one is more fit for the role that you are Christine."
With that she stood and approached him excited with the prospect. "Well than in that case: yes I would love to play Aminta-"
Her proclamation was cut short when the sound of a distant scream echoed around the catacombs.
"What in the world was that?" She asked, with fear creeping up in her voice.
"I don't know, but stay here. Don't come out no matter what happens." And with that he grabbed his sword and eagerly rushed around the lake and through the darkness. By the time Christine called out for him to come back he was already gone.
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As the managers of the Opera Populiar each sat in their respectable seats, supposed of course by the shiny oak desks that came with each chair Firmin impatiently pulled the pocket watch from his jacket pocket while Andre whistled happily and tapped his fingers to the toon. He stopped shortly however when he received a stern glance from his partner and frowned suddenly at the lateness off their patron.
"Oh for God's sakes man will you relax he'll be here!" Andre said with a slight laugh.
"Sure Andre, only you would think that if you had asked a man to be in your office for a business meeting at three p.m. he'd show up at four p.m. instead!" He declaimed sarcastically.
The mediocre argument was cut short by the abrupt knocking on their door.
"Yes, yes come in!" Called Firmin annoyed.
A young assistant entered cautiously and approached her boss nervously.
"Well? Is he here yet Charlotte?"
"Um…No…no sir…" She stuttered.
"Then why are you in my office you silly girl!" She visibly jumped at the mean remark and blinked in fear several time before continuing.
"Madam Carlotta wishes me to inform you-"
"Oh I've had about enough of that blasted woman give her whatever she wants and don't come back her until the Viscount shows up!" He barked.
"Well, well aren't my ears ringing." Called a voice from the door. Firmin's expression softened slightly as the young Viscount nodded his greetings to Charlotte and Andre and preceded to sit down.
"Well you are excused!" He exclaimed to the timid girl, though the sentence was barely spoken before she ran from the room eager to retreat from the scene.
"Well, Raoul! How kind of you to join us the afternoon." He smiled mockingly.
"Forgive me for the lateness sir but I was…preoccupied for the majority of the day-"
"Good lord man what happened to your face!" Exclaimed Andre as he leaned closer to examine the damage. A large black eye was setting in to the Viscount's features, while a small, but swollen gash rested on his cheekbone.
"I must say…" Began Firmin. "Were you attacked or something?"
"No, No!" Began the Viscount eager to save his pride. But as the men stared at him for an explanation an idea formed in his head and before he knew it a wicked smirk spread across his face.
"Well actually now that you mention it, I might as well tell you the truth…"
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Erik used the shadows he knew so well as an advantage now as he cautiously walked around his lair. Who could ever be foolish enough to possibly enter his home without permission? But worse yet, who else could possibly know where he lived? The scream had definitely been nearby…had definitely been female…but the question was: where had it come from?
He cautiously followed the sound of shuffling feet and it wasn't long before he was standing behind the very intruder of his home. With his weapon drawn he began to notice the odd movement of feet that the intruder was making…nearby were several rats…it only took a moment before he realized the intruder's identity. He crossed his arms annoyed over his chest and remained in the unseen shadows as Meg Giry screeched and scrummed around the school of rats that ran around her skirts.
"What," He began viciously. "Are you doing here?" He asked with more venom than necessary. Meg yelped once again and turned in the direction of the noise.
"I-I came here to see Christine." She said stuttering with wide eyes. Erik found her imitation of him amusing and continued to frighten the girl further.
"And what makes you think she's with me?" He asked with a cock of his head.
"Please Monsieur." She began. "I have some imperative matters that I absolutely have to speak to her with."
"What does this matter involve?" He asked.
She seemed tentative to continue but knew that her answer was the only ticket to get her to see her friend.
"The Viscount Monsieur…" Erik gritted his teeth and nodded understandably.
"Very well…follow me."
She did as she was told. Somewhat fearful and excited at the same time at the prospect of being one of the very few people allowed in the 'Evil Phantom's Lair' It was a pure thrill, even more so when they approached the shore to find Christine sitting impatiently: curling her hair in her fingers and tapping her foot eagerly.
"Christine!" She called running past Erik to embrace her dear friend.
"Meg?" She asked before she was nearly suffocated by the blonde's hug.
"Meg what is it what's wrong?" She asked knowing her presents down here could only mean the negative.
Meg's face fell as she began relived the tale. Christine's face paled extremely as she tightly held her friend's hand in her own offering any comfort that she could give. Both women ignored Erik as he stood by ominously hearing the tale himself for the first time.
This boy has gone far enough! It wasn't so much who he had attacked (for he never much cared for the younger Giry.) it was the unhappiness he had put upon Christine. The thought of the harassment Christine's best friend had gone though, and the thought of how upset Christine would be by the news only increased his anger and before he knew it he had slammed his fists against the table in rage. This action scared the girls considerably as they each turned to him with horror in their eyes…oh how he loathed that look.
"Meg where is you mother now?" He asked refusing to face them.
"She-she…should just be getting done with today's rehearsals Monsieur." He nodded and turned swiftly to the young ladies who still looked at him with a considerable amount of confusion.
"I fear I shall need her assistance with something." He said dolefully. Christine left Meg's side at this time and approached Erik fearfully.
"What do you intend to do?" She asked for their ears only.
"Do not worry Christine…I simply have a point to make."
"But Erik-"
"No Christine Not now." He said gesturing to Meg. "I want you to take the boat and return to Meg's room. Make sure people see you around so that they know you are no longer missing…if anyone asks simply tell them you were with Meg this entire time."
"Erik I don't know about this…"
"Please Christine, just do as I ask…" He leaned closer into her as to whisper in her ear. "…And don't forget what I asked you about." He said lovingly.
She was about to protest once more but he was gone before she could even think of the words to say. Meg was soon by her side hugging her friend gently to ease her of her fears.
"Don't worry Christine…I'm sure everything will be just fine."
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"Well that is just unbelievable!" Andre Exclaimed as he opened the door for himself, Firmin and the Patron.
"Yes, and of course we thank you for even coming down here at all!" Firmin shook his hand heartily and smiled widely and they exited the office and headed toward the front lobby.
"Well, my responsibilities as a Patron to this theater will not be undermined no matter what the circumstances!" He replied with a phony tone.
"Ah yes well everyone certainly appreciates your cooperation in this Viscount. Frankly, with all these disruptions revolving around the 'Phantom' and now with you getting attacked I'm surprised you even agreed to stay on for next season at all!" Andre Explained.
"Well, what can I say…" He said thinking of Christine. "I have made some important investments here that I refuse to be parted from…"
"Monsieur! Monsieur!" Called out a young girl as she ran towards the gentlemen.
"Charlotte? Good heaven's child what is it?" Asked Firmin as he took in her lack of breath and the frightened expression on her face.
"Something has happened sir you must come to the stage quickly!" She left no time to reply as she ran to the stage hurriedly. All three gentlemen looked at each other before shrugging and following the girl questionably.
When they at last reached the inner theater Firmin was gasping for breath and averted his eyes to the ground as he heaved for air. Not noticing the wide eye of his acquaintances and the crude tapping Andre was giving him on the shoulder. Finally fed up with the mess, Firmin slapped his partner's hand away and bellowed throughout the theater.
"What Andre what! For crying out loud is this a madhouse or a structure of the arts!" I say-"
"Monsieur…" Raoul whispered quietly gesturing in the direction of the stage. Firmin finally looked up and a sight unlike anything he had seen before awaited him.
Chorus and ballet girls clung to each other desperately as they halted to each side of the drawn stage curtain. Carlotta herself had fainted and her team of devotes were at their wits end at trying to awake her from her slumber. The shock and disgust among all the face of the people around could not be denied. Firmin himself gasped as his gaze landed on the center of the stage.
Hanging from a well-wired noose was a charred carcass that was burnt beyond recognition… the only identifiable feature were the eye sockets that actually lacked eyes and a message tied to the chest that stated in blood-red ink:
"My demands will be met or the punishment for disobeying me will make you all wish you were burning in hell!"
The stagehands had ceased the burning of the cadaver but the smell of smoldering flesh remained in the air…as well as the pure terror that lived in every soul within eye distance.
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Yes I know…I'm evil! Go ahead and review so you can confirm my evilness!